The Way of the Ram Page 2

  Chapter 4

  “Swifter?”

  The stark white sheep stopped in the middle of the store and turned at the sound of Dreamer’s voice. When he saw her, he made an odd face. “Oh, hey Dreamer. Did you see that craziness in the square just now?”

  “I caught some of it. Glad that’s over with.” She grinned. “I haven’t seen you around school in months. I thought maybe you dropped out.”

  “No, I’m doing night classes now. Caper’s being super cool about it.”

  “Wow. What made you decide to do that?”

  Swifter made the evasive face again, shifting his weight. “Uh, I went into business with your ex-boyfriend.”

  The grin vanished from Dreamer’s face. “Healer. How is he?”

  “Busy.”

  Dreamer did not need to use her powers to tell that Swifter did not want to be having this conversation. “Is something wrong?”

  “Wrong, no. Awkward, maybe. I was trying to get away from you without mentioning him. I don’t know if it was like an ugly breakup or something.”

  “Did… Healer say it was?”

  “He doesn’t talk about anything but our business plan. The dude’s a machine. Hardly eats or sleeps.”

  Dreamer nodded. “Oh. Well, don’t worry. It’s not awkward. Why are you still making that face?”

  “Uh… I don’t know how to put this nicely. There’s a weird smell.”

  “Oh.” She shook her bag and laughed. “That’s the fertilizer I bought.”

  “Taking up gardening, huh?”

  “Sort of. How about you? What brings you out to the city?”

  “I’m headed to sporting goods to get some exercise bands.”

  “Exercise bands? What are you and Healer doing?”

  Swifter smiled. “It’s a secret.”

  “Does it have anything to do with the building that went up where his old house used to be?”

  The white sheep’s grin stretched even wider. “Tell you what. Tomorrow morning, have your TV on at nine. All your questions will be answered.”

  Chapter 5

  “Good morning! This is Charlie Chugg with a very special message!”

  Waving his arms, the cheerful cartoon pig interrupted every channel on the air. The news, sports, children’s shows, and documentaries all came to a halt—to the annoyance of quite a few sheep—so everyone would see the live event taking place now. Charlie Chugg disappeared from the screen to reveal a view of the plains with the great quarry wall in the background. There was not a cloud in the sky.

  In the foreground stood Healer with a blank look on his face. Behind him loomed a quaint two-story house with a wooden entry ramp. Beside him stood a sign reading “Whole Hogs Physical & Spiritual Rehabilitation Clinic—a Subsidiary of the Chugg Corporation.” The sign bore a winking Charlie Chugg logo, which was duplicated above the front door of the house.

  “Good morning,” Healer said to the camera and the audience of thousands that it represented. “My name is Healer. You may have heard of me. I made the news about a year and a half ago. My name was Snapper then. I’ve done some regrettable things and caused trouble for a lot of people.” He broke eye contact with the camera and began to pace back and forth. The pig behind the camera kept him in the center of the frame.

  “I have made private apologies to the administration of the Megatropolis, and as you can see, I’ve been forgiven. We have gone into business together. I wish to make those same apologies to you, the people of Fleece City, for the rash decisions of a poorly raised young sheep.” He looked into the camera again. “My father, Old-Timer, the Trampler, was a crazed malcontent looking to incite civil unrest. He tried to make me the same as him. For my actions and for his, I am sorry.”

  He paused and took a deep breath. “But all is well that ends well. I was partly responsible for the escape of two dangerous fugitives. I want to say how glad I am that they are back under pig control where they belong… where we all belong. Our world is safe again.” He looked at the sign behind him. “However, not everyone has made it through unscathed. This world, while it has been largely tamed by our pig benefactors, is still full of dangers, both to the body and to the soul. That is why I founded Whole Hogs.”

  Healer turned around and headed toward his clinic, motioning for the cameraman to follow him. “This facility is a complete repudiation of everything that my father, and those like him, did to hurt our society. Old-Timer built a house right here and took me out of Fleece City to keep my powers away from the world. Now that my healing ability is public knowledge, I thought it would be appropriate to have the shell of that old house swept away. This clinic is built where that house used to stand. That is because I have rejected that secrecy and decided to share my unique ability with everyone.”

  He pushed open the front door and the crew followed him inside. The floors were linoleum tile, the walls a calm light blue. The whole downstairs area was one room, a wide-open space with exercise equipment, mats, balls, and toys.

  Off to one side, Swifter led two sheep and a dog in an exercise routine with light resistance bands. Healer walked up behind him and laid a hoof on his shoulder. Swifter glanced back with a winning smile.

  “This is Swifter, my business partner and the exercise guru of this operation,” Healer said. “I might close up the wounds, but it’s his fitness regimen that helps people return to work without injuring themselves again.”

  “How long have you been treating patients here?” someone asked from out of frame.

  “Glad you asked. About three months. We wanted a quiet trial run before today’s official grand opening.”

  The camera drifted over to focus on a stairway just inside the front door. “What’s up there?”

  “I live upstairs.” Healer waved in that direction with a wry grin. “Nothing interesting up there, I promise.”

  He walked through the gym. The pig with the big camera kept following him, sweeping from side to side to capture everything.

  “Recovering from injuries is not an instant process,” Healer said. On cue, an older ewe with a splint on her foreleg limped into the field of view. Healer directed her to lie on her back on a soft mat. “The physical ailment is a simple fix for me, for the most part. The majority of people only have to come see me once. I take those cases as appointments as well as walk-ins.” He greeted the old woman and began the careful process of removing the dressing on her wound.

  Healer let the cameraman have a look at the woman’s leg, which was broken in at least three places and bore the obvious marks of dog teeth. He then took a gentle hold on the wounded foreleg and let the green luster appear in his eyes. The external wounds vanished and the crooked foreleg straightened itself out.

  “How’s that?” he asked. The old woman smiled and nodded.

  Healer sent her on her way and turned back to the camera. “My powers can mend the physical injury, but I have no magic spell to fix the traumatic memory of the accident or the deconditioning that such accidents can cause. For those cases, we set up recurring appointments, usually two or three times a week. Those patients receive Swifter’s exercise program as well as the services of a Megatropolis-trained psychiatrist.”

  “How did you get this place started?” the off-screen interviewer inquired. “How did you afford to build this facility?”

  Healer smiled. “The generosity of the Chugg Corporation, of course. We take all levels of Chugg health insurance plans. So does our psychiatrist, Dr. Gobb. He tends to my patients’ psychological needs and is also a licensed distributor for Chugg Pharmaceuticals.” He pointed to a private booth in a corner. A trim, bespectacled pig leaned out and waved to the camera.

  “Well, we’d better let our viewers return to their shows,” the pig behind the camera said. “Anything to add, Mr. Healer?”

  “Whole Hogs is open to everyone, be they pig, sheep, dog, or bird,” said Healer. “Other than that, I just want to say thank you to everyone who’s joined me for this grand opening. If you�
��re in need of healing, come see the Healer.”

  Charlie Chugg appeared again with his disarming smile. “Now back to your regularly scheduled programming! I approve of this message! You can trust me—am I Charlie Chugg, or not?”

  Chapter 6

  “Good afternoon, Dreamer.”

  “Hello, Mrs. Flaxer. Is he in?”

  The canary on the desk smiled. “Yes, he told me he was expecting you. Go on in.”

  When Dreamer opened the door to Professor Caper’s office, she nearly ran into the old owl coming out.

  Caper took a polite step back. “Right on time, as you always are. How are your theology classes going? Your teachers speak very highly of you.”

  Caught off guard, Dreamer blinked. “Um… they’re great. I’m learning a lot.”

  The owl took a deep breath. “I fancy a walk outside. I was going to ask you to join me.”

  “Sure. Sounds good.” She followed the owl down to the end of the second-floor hallway. He opened a door that she had never seen anyone use.

  It led outside, and soon the two of them were walking side by side on top of the stone wall that bordered University’s courtyard. Wrought-iron railings on either side kept them safe from falling, but did nothing to stop the chilly wind.

  She shivered. “What’s on your mind, Professor?”

  The golden-brown owl turned to look out at the plains, toward Fleece City and the new clinic beyond. “I was wondering what you thought about this morning’s broadcast. Did your teacher show it to the class like I asked her to?”

  Dreamer nodded, also looking out across the plains. “Yes. I knew it was coming. I ran into Swifter in town yesterday.”

  “Do you have an opinion?”

  “Well… on our first date, Healer joked about starting a clinic.” She stared at the faraway building. “I can’t believe he went through with it.”

  Caper cleared his throat. “I don’t mean to dredge up any negative emotions.”

  “No, it’s fine. I’m glad for him. I think it will be a good contribution to society. If that’s what this is.”

  The old professor’s face turned wry. “Now you know why I brought you up here. Tell me what you really think.”

  Dreamer sighed. “I don’t actually know what to think. It just isn’t like him to find a way to work within the system. That’s not the Healer I knew. He swore to me he would never stop fighting. Either he’s given up, or he’s found an outlet the pigs can accept. Why? What do you think?”

  Caper smiled at her. “I believe this is a façade. If his final words to me still stand, he has followed my example and feigned peaceful acceptance in order to gain wealth and influence. Like me, he is looking for some method to undermine the Megatropolis while ostensibly working for them.”

  “You haven’t spoken to him either?”

  “Not since he left. He’s continued his martial arts training, so I am able to indirectly keep tabs on him through Boxer. He has kept this venture close to the chest; not even Boxer knows much about it. But that does not stop me asking. Healer is still my responsibility, after all. Whatever his true intentions are, I would like to know them.”

  “Good luck,” Dreamer said. “I’m sort of hoping you’re wrong. If he has managed to get a good thing going, it would be nice if he doesn’t jeopardize it.”

  Caper chuckled. “I can tell you from personal experience that no level of comfort will truly quell that sense of injustice. He has been intimately affected by the pigs, and no amount of money or material satisfaction will make that go away.”

  Dreamer turned to him with keen interest, hearing his spoken and unspoken thoughts. “You’ve given something away, Professor. They hurt you, too. The way you run University, working with Boxer and the old ram, hiding Ponder and Mauler… you rebel because of something the pigs did to you.”

  When he didn’t answer, she felt herself blushing. “I’m sorry, Professor. That was out of line.”

  Caper shook his head. “Not at all. I forget about your supernatural intuition at times. You have every right to be curious. You’ve seen and learned more about this world than most people will. If you really want to know, you have a choice to make.”

  “What choice is that?”

  “I can tell you what happened in my past, or you can see for yourself.”

  Dreamer thought for a minute. “I’d like to see.” She stepped closer to Caper and reached out her hoof. He took it in his talon. “Close your eyes and focus on me,” Dreamer said.

  Then she was in Caper’s mind. Images whipped through her field of vision like a video on fast forward. She knew they were traveling back to the past, but she had no idea how far.

  Chapter 7

  Dreamer stood in a cold, sterile laboratory with corrugated steel walls and a bare concrete floor. A tiny rectangular window near the ceiling told her that this room was a basement. The tawny owl stood in front of a metal shelf rack with his back to her.

  She wanted to take a closer look. She recalled Optera’s words at the shrine, assuring her that her powers would be enhanced and that she would be able be more than a passive observer. Focusing her mind, Dreamer brought the scene to a stop.

  She freely walked about the laboratory, inspecting everything. Caper, now frozen in place, was much younger than the man she knew. He stood up straighter, there was a healthy sheen to his feathers, and his body was trim and fit. His foot hung in midair, reaching for the shelf in front of him. When she saw his target, she had to look away and fight back nausea.

  Caper’s younger self was reaching for a glass jar on the shelf rack—a jar with a fetus in it, suspended in fluid. The entire shelf was packed with jars containing unborn creatures at various stages of development. Some were embryonic, but others had differentiated into birds or dogs or pigs. Or sheep.

  Dreamer was horrified, but she was not about to tear herself back into the present just so she could demand an explanation from Caper. She chose to let the memory play out first and ask him later. She relinquished her hold and let the vision continue.

  The younger Caper picked up the jar, peering at the label on the lid. “Let’s see what went wrong here, little fellow,” he muttered. He carried the jar across the room and set it down next to a huge microscope. Then he unscrewed the lid from the jar and pulled a syringe from a drawer.

  He was lowering the needle toward the contents of the jar when the concussive force of an explosion ripped through the tiny room. He dove to the floor. Dreamer reflexively did the same before remembering that she was in no danger.

  Smoke and dust poured in from upstairs. Caper rolled over and staggered to his feet. He stared at the stairway. Out of the cloud of smoke billowing down, two hulking grey boars and a little bipedal peccary came down the steps and into the lab.

  Caper stood at his full height, drawing air into the syringe and tucking the foot holding it under his belly. “Stay away from me, swine,” he said in an even tone. “There’s nothing here of any value to you.”

  “Oh, I beg to differ,” the peccary said with a cruel smile. He slid forward, but stayed between his two bodyguards. “This laboratory is a regular treasure trove. You see, my commander has learned what you’ve been doing down here, and he wants your research. We pigs are well on our way to winning this little war. As you’ve just learned, our weapons are far superior. But taking control and keeping control are two wildly different things. With cloning, however… now, that would make our situation a lot easier.”

  Caper glanced at the jars and back to the pigs. “Who told you I’m cloning? That’s ridiculous.”

  The peccary snickered. “Well… you could say a little bird told us.”

  “That wouldn’t be a long-necked, bald-headed bird named Specter, would it?” Caper spat, stumbling over his words in his fury.

  The little pig waggled his trotter and clicked his tongue. “Can’t say. The important thing is, you’re going to cooperate with us. There are some very smart dogs and birds who have made peace with the in
evitable and decided to help us along. And you’re regarded as the smartest of all, I hear. Those who have shown us loyalty are already learning how generous we can be. I’m glad to welcome you to the winning team, Caper.” The peccary reached out his trotter to shake.

  Dreamer took an involuntary step back at what she knew was about to happen. Caper’s young, combat-hardened body moved faster than she would have believed. He thrust the needle between the pig’s ribs and jammed the plunger down, forcing a bubble of air into the peccary’s chest cavity. The two boars lunged at the owl.

  Caper let out his high-pitched shriek, a frenzy of talons and feathers. His hooked claws did little against their leathery hides. As the peccary coughed out his last breath and fell on his stomach, Caper flapped his wings to try to get some distance. But the room was too small to get out of the boars’ reach. They caught him and dragged him down.

  “Kill him!” one of them bellowed.

  With another massive effort, Caper seized the face of one of his attackers with his claws and beak, causing the boar to draw back to protect his eyes. This gave Caper the opening he needed, and he lunged for the stairs. He got through the smoke, ran past the smoldering doorframe that the pigs’ bomb had blasted apart, and then he had enough room to fly.

  Chapter 8

  A second later Dreamer was back on top of the wall, in the present, with the old Caper she knew. Slightly rattled, she stood still for a long minute to think about what she had just witnessed. Caper stared at her with a strange, sad expression she had never seen on him before.

  She felt the need to put her discovery into words. “The cloned warthogs, hounds, and ospreys were created from research that the pigs stole from you.” Now she understood the look on his face—shame.

  “It’s true,” the old owl said. “Toward the end of the Canine-Avian War, before the pigs appeared, I told the birds in charge at the time that I’d be more useful in a research position than on the battlefield. Initially I was interested in medical breakthroughs, something to help get injured birds back in the fight. Then, I started to wonder if we could be improving soldiers, rather than just healing them. I wanted to understand the genomes of all the people of our world, to make better birds by giving them the best attributes of dogs and sheep. I wanted to make sure no one could ever challenge the power of birds again.” He broke eye contact with Dreamer and looked down, his voice quavering. “When the pigs arrived and the tide of the war was turning against us, I grew desperate. Just like everyone else. I began trying to create an army of disposable foot soldiers to hold back the unstoppable onslaught.”